


no grave can hold my body down.

by unsealie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a vaguely happy ending, Boys In Love, Car Accident, Character Death, Flashbacks, Fluff, Highschool AU, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Song fic, Spilled coffee, brief mentions of alcohol, loss of limb, shance, shiro gets his myoelectric prosthesis, soft, the happy is in the middle, they don't get along at first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 05:36:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14948543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsealie/pseuds/unsealie
Summary: It had all started with a simple school project, and had progressed into so much more. Years later, Shiro reminisces about his time with Lance, trying desperately to ignore the growing ache in his chest.





	no grave can hold my body down.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Enikawa_Moriko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enikawa_Moriko/gifts).



> This piece is for Enikawa_Moriko! I do hope you enjoy.
> 
> The lyrics used in this are from Work Song by Hozier.

_ “When my time comes around” _

They had met at Altea Café, a small coffee shop downtown, every day, at approximately 4:30 in the afternoon. That first day, though, Lance had been prepared with two coffees for them, an eager smile on his face. They shook hands and Lance picked up one of the coffees, moving to hand it to Shiro. Seconds later, one coffee was not only on the floor, but all over Shiro’s front, his shirt ruined.

Rushed apologies were muttered as Lance hurried to grab napkins, trying to help Shiro, who was simply laughing at him. They managed to clean him up enough, and thankfully, he had a shirt in his bag to change into. The fiasco left them a bit frazzled, but Lance urged Shiro to sit, and they started working on the project they had been assigned.

They didn't get along at first, to say the least. Shiro didn’t particularly enjoy working with someone one year below him, but ultimately, he hadn’t been given a choice. It was a cooperative project amongst grade levels, something that happened every year at Garrison High. And, just his luck, Shiro had been stuck with a junior.

_ “You’re doing it wrong-”  _

_ “No, this is how you told me to!”  _

_ “Well, yes, but not like that.”  _

Nothing is ever easy in the beginning, but they soon worked it out. Everything that needed to get done  _ did _ get done, the paper completed with Lance Alvarez and Takashi Shirogane written along the top in Lance’s messy cursive. When they turned the paper in, it wasn’t only their names together; their pinky fingers were hooked, and they shared a smile as their other fingers twined together.

_ “Lay me gently in the cold dark earth” _

Shiro and Lance grew together through the seasons, coming together like crashing waves. The way Lance’s hand fit in the other’s could only be described as “meant to be,” their smiles bright and eyes only on each other. They spent as much time together as they could, and to be completely honest, Lance was sure they would be happy together for the rest of their lives. They complimented each other, were a seemingly perfect match.

Nothing could ever be perfect between them, but neither of them wanted perfect. Lance didn’t expect Shiro to be some God, and Shiro never expected Lance to be more than what or who he was. Some nights weren’t easy, and sometimes Shiro couldn’t help but run, needing to get out of his head. And yet every morning, he came back, flowers in his hand and apologies falling from his lips like honey, and yet much more bitter.

And now, facing the truth of what had happened, Shiro didn’t know what to do. This could not be soothed by apologies and gentle kisses. The dull ache in Shiro’s chest would be one he would live with forever, and, without his lover by his side, he couldn’t fathom a life without it.

_ “No grave can hold my body down” _

June 30th, 12:29 PM

The cool wind ruffled his hair as Shiro looked up at the sky, his eyes glazed over, hands resting on his stomach. He could feel Lance next to him, the boy’s shoulder pressed to his own, blankets piled up beneath and around them, keeping them warm. This wasn’t a one time thing, nor was it their first night spent in the midnight chill, pressed together in the bed of his truck, stars reflected in their eyes; Shiro could only hope it wouldn’t be their last time, either.

It wasn’t a surprise, really, that they were out there. Maybe they were a little tipsy, Shiro couldn’t tell anymore, but surely he didn’t care. He was content sitting with Lance, mind wandering, empty bottles of beer laying with them, too. He opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it, shutting his mouth, eyes unfocusing momentarily. 

He didn’t know what came over him, but soon Shiro’s head was tilting to the side, eyes meeting ocean blue ones, already watching him. A small laugh came from the boy next to him, and the mere sound caused Shiro’s breath to leave him. Everything about Lance was so beautiful, and they both knew it; Shiro knew it like he knew the back of his hand. Whether it be the way he talked, or laughed, or swam, or even the way he loved. Everything about him was beautiful.

And now, looking into those eyes, Shiro knew that Lance would always be beautiful. It didn’t matter what he did, but that boy- God, that boy was lovely. Maybe, just maybe, he could look at Lance and see stars. Maybe he didn’t need the sky, the desert, the truck and the blankets. Maybe he only needed Lance.

Lance’s head turned, looking up at the stars again, a soft smile adorning his face as light danced across it. He knew now that it was his heart making him move, not his head; if it had been his head, maybe he wouldn’t have moved at all. Shiro reached out, hand barely shaking, mind racing as he gently cupped Lance’s cheek, turning the boy’s face back to him. Lance’s eyes had widened a bit but Shiro couldn’t think about it, his own eyes fluttering shut as he leaned forward.

Their lips brushed and, not to be cliché, Shiro was sure fireworks exploded in his head, sparks running down his spine. He knew it was a mistake the moment he pulled away, Lance frozen beside him, eyes wide, reflecting the soft lights around them. With a rushed apology and blushing cheeks, Shiro pushed himself up, pulling his knees closer to his chest. Lance was still watching him, lips working as he spoke, telling him to wait, wait, wait.

Shiro wasn’t listening as he forced himself to look at the stars, jaw locked, teeth grinding together as he kept himself from crying.  _ What the hell was I doing? _ Shiro thought bitterly, arms wrapped around his knees, chin resting on top of them. He didn’t register the movements and shifting blankets as Lance sat up as well, the boy giving him time, letting them sit in silence.

When Lance finally spoke up again, his voice was quiet, body turned to face him completely. Shiro tried to listen as the other spoke, eyes open and yet unseeing, body numb as regret flooded his system. 

“Shiro. Shi-ro. Shiro!” Lance was laughing now, kneeling in front of Shiro, their faces close together. Now startled out of his stupor, Shiro watched Lance carefully, wondering what he would do, and thinking,  _ why the hell are we so close God Lance you don’t understand what this does to my heart. _

After a silent minute of staring at each other, Lance leaned forward, crashing their lips together in what could only be considered his first proper kiss. First, proper, and  _ messy _ , that’s for sure. Their lips met in a mess of teeth and tongue and desperation, Lance’s hands moving to run through his long hair; the long hair Shiro only kept because Lance liked it. The boy tugged the hair tie out to let his hair fall down, hands built to fly combing it back. 

It was like something had finally broke as they kissed, as if the walls they had built had come crumbling down. They had been dancing around each other for so long, with brief touches and bright smiles, everything careful and cautious. And now, as Shiro’s arms moved to wrap around Lance’s neck, it was as if they were shouting  _ caution be damned _ from the rooftops.

Pulling away to breathe, Shiro couldn’t keep the smile from his face, the corners of his lips tugging up. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Lance muttered, already leaning forward to kiss Shiro again, this one softer and full of affection. Where the previous had been rough, this one was gentle, was caring instead of passionate. And while they kissed, Shiro realized he had never thought of kissing Lance, not really, not until it hit him how  _ badly _ he wanted to kiss him and hold him close. He had been happy with fleeting touches and intertwined fingers, but this was something completely different, something that set a fire down in his soul.

Their lips barely ghosted against each other for a moment before Shiro pulled away, hands moving up to cup Lance’s jaw, their eyes meeting. “Lay down with me,” he whispered, already shifting his body until he was on the bed of the truck, stretched out with Lance beside him. “Come on.”

Without warning, Lance grinned like the devil himself and threw a leg over Shiro, straddling his hips. He leaned down, lips pressing to the spot just below Shiro’s ear, his voice a low whisper as he spoke. “Sorry, cariño.”

And with that, Lance’s lithe fingers were attacking his sides, tickling Shiro till he was laughing and crying and begging him to stop. “Lance! Lan- hey! Lance, stop it!” Their laughter and screams filled the silent streets, and in that moment, the two of them shined brighter than the stars.

July 17th, 11:41 AM

The summer sun was hot on their skin as they rode through the streets, Shiro riding a bike and Lance on the back of it. The latter was clinging onto Shiro’s broad shoulders, hollering in unabashed joy as they sped past houses, the buildings mere blurs. “Faster, Shiro!” 

Happiness filled their veins as they went down a hill, Shiro’s chest aching in the most pleasurable way. They had spent many days like this, riding through town with sunburnt shoulders and bright smiles, racing past people and getting scolded for being too loud. Shiro didn’t care, though; as long as he was with Lance, nothing else really mattered.

August 12th, 4:14 AM

Shiro remembered the day he had lost his arm with vivid detail, remembered the pain he had been in, and the pure agony of realizing he could die without seeing Lance’s face one more time. He had been in the passenger seat, and another car had crashed into his side, practically crushing the car.

Days had passed and when Shiro woke up, he was missing a limb and he didn’t know why he had bandages on his face. All he knew was that he was  _ alive _ .

Lance had visited him every single day, bringing him chocolates and blankets and his love. Whenever the doctors and nurses were gone, Lance would hastily climb into his bed, curling up to his side. They shared whispered stories and secrets, anything to keep Shiro’s mind off of what had happened. Lance had told him he was beautiful, had held his hand through it all, had reassured him and calmed him down.

They had given him a myoelectric prosthesis. It took him weeks of physical therapy to get used to it, but he got through it, and soon he almost felt like he could function again. He avoided touching Lance with his new arm, made of cold and unforgiving metal, but that couldn’t last for long. There was no way he could keep both hands off of Lance, and the other didn’t want him to. Lance told him over and over again that he would love every piece of him, and soon, Shiro started to believe him.

December 4th, 9:27 AM

“Shiro!” The voice rang out through the hall, and suddenly, a smaller body crashed into his. Shiro’s arms immediately came to wrap around Lance, laughter bubbling up from the smaller of the two. “Shiro, guess what day it is!”

Shiro grinned and looked down at his lover, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his head. “What day is it?” He questioned, feigning ignorance, “Last I checked, it was the beginning of December. Is the calendar wrong?”

Lance huffed out a laugh and pushed himself away from Shiro, doing a dramatic spin in the middle of their kitchen. “It’s our anniversary!” His blue eyes were comically wide, and gazing at him, Shiro wasn’t sure if they were brighter than the snow outside (he thought they were). “Don’t tell me you forgot,” Lance accused, giving Shiro a half-hearted glare.

“I would never.” Shiro placed a hand over his heart as if the very idea pained him, a smile on his face the whole time. He turned back to the coffee machine, feeling a skinny pair of arms wind around his waist. “You know, you could just ask me for coffee instead of trying to steal mine,” Shiro teased, already grabbing two cups for them. He had out creamer, sugar, and milk, their unofficial necessities when it came to coffee.

Their morning followed the same routine it always did. They drank their coffee in silence, hands twined together over the kitchen table, the apartment cold but neither of them minding. Anniversaries weren’t exactly special to them, and were celebrated in their own minimal ways. But this anniversary was going to be special. 

“Lance Alvarez, will you marry me?” The question was out of his mouth before he could think better of it, and soon Shiro was thrown into blinding panic, his cheeks burning in a barely contained blush. He had everything planned, and being the idiot he was, he ruined it. But he was just so weak for Lance, so easy for those small freckles along his lover’s nose, those long fingers and his lithe frame. Shiro knew that he would always be Lance’s, would always belong to the silly, energetic boy he had fallen in love with.

All it took was teary eyes and a simple, breathy “yes,” and they were crashing into each other, holding on as if their lives depending on it.

_ “I’ll crawl home to  _ ~~_ her _ ~~ _ him” _

Years had passed and they lived happily together. It sounded exactly like the fairy tale Shiro would make it out to be when he spoke at their wedding, when they adopted their first little boy, when they grew old together like they had planned. If Shiro could describe his life with Lance, there was only one word to accurately describe it; perfect.

It wasn’t a surprise when Lance got sick, his frame shaking with the force of his coughs. Shiro knew this day would come, but he always hoped it would be later, later, later. The day came too soon, and Shiro could barely breathe around the hole that had been punched in his chest. He spoke of their life at the funeral, tears glittering in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks as he went on about how truly wonderful Lance had been.

“Lance, my love, I will miss you every day of my life. You will be on my mind through it all, and our memories will live on in me. As I continue to grow old without you here by my side, I wait for the day when we shall be reunited. I wait for the day when I can hold you in my arms again, and hear your beautiful voice. May you forever rest in peace. Ai shiteru.”


End file.
